Disclaimer: Everything pertaining to Harry Potter is property of the amazing J.K. Rowling. I'm just an obsessed fan.
A.N: I've been reading fanfics for years but this is my first crack at actually posting one! Let me know if you think I should continue it! No flames, please and thank you! Enjoy!
Another long, hot summer day seemed to drag on and on for Harry Potter as he lay sprawled on his bed, alone in his room at his godfather's old house. He was on his back, staring at the ceiling, lost in the tangled mess of his own thoughts. Remus had picked him up from the Dursley's the day before to have him spend the rest of the summer at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was only the two of them in the dusty old house, and, so far, they had barely spoken two words to each other. Harry, who was already consumed with grief for Sirius, also had horribly conflicting emotions regarding Remus at the moment. There was a part of him that wanted so badly for Remus to be there for him and comfort him over Sirius' death. He wanted to feel like he could talk with Remus as openly and easily as he had with Sirius.
But another part of him was afraid. Not afraid, but terrified. Terrified that Remus would reject him, blame him for what happened to Sirius. He was Sirius' best friend, nagged the little voice in Harry's head that sounded remarkably like his own. You can't expect him to just drop everything and be there for you. Especially when Sirius' death was your fault in the first place.
Harry swallowed hard, forcing back the lump in his throat that was triggered by his own conclusion that he had been responsible for the death of his beloved godfather. If you had only listened to Hermione, if you had just opened that damn mirror, none of this would have happened. Sirius would still be alive. Harry wished the voice in his head had an "off" button.
He was beginning to feel like a coward, laying on his bed, essentially avoiding Remus because he was afraid of being told what he already knew: that Sirius' death was all his fault, and he had no right to seek comfort from the man who had known Sirius for so much longer. Harry began to wonder what had happened to all his Gryffindor courage; he hated avoiding Remus and he missed talking to him.
But he's avoiding you, too. Damn nagging voice. He hasn't come to check on you at all, has he? He's expecting you to take the hint.
It was at times like this that Harry wished he wasn't the Boy Who Lived.
Remus POV
Remus Lupin sat at the long table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, a glass of butterbeer in one hand and a photo album open in front of him. He looked down into Sirius' young, laughing face, and Peter's innocent boyish one. What went wrong?
There were times when Remus wished he could have a talk with Peter. He wanted to know what had driven him to join Voldemort, what had possessed him to ruin the lives of his best friends without blinking an eye. And there were times, like now, when he wished with all his heart and soul that he could talk to Sirius. Sirius always knew what to say to Harry.
Remus hadn't been sure what to expect when he went to go get Harry from Privet Drive. Would he be sullen and angst-ridden? An emotional mess of tears and apologies? Angry and hateful? Sirius would have known how to handle any of it, and here was Remus, not even able to work up the guts to talk to the boy.
Remus loved Harry with every fiber of his being. Truth be told, it worried him sick to think of Harry upstairs, alone in his room, left to his tortured thoughts. What if he really needs you? (Harry wasn't the only one with a nagging voice in his head.) What if he's all alone up there, crying his eyes out, and you're sitting down here not even checking on him! Pathetic!
Remus wanted to bang his head against the table. It killed him to think that he was failing to be there for Harry when he needed him the most, but it killed him just as much to think that the boy didn't want him around.
Heaving a defeated sigh, Remus got up for more butterbeer.
Harry POV
Staring at the same ceiling was getting quite old. Harry couldn't sort out his mess of thoughts, couldn't make the voice in his head shut up, and couldn't stop missing Sirius so much he felt like his heart had been ripped out.
He wasn't sure how long he had been laying there, but the monotonous silence was finally broken by the small rattling of his closet door.
Harry raised his head, his stiff neck protesting. He reached up to rub it just as the door rattled again, slightly more violently. He sat all the way up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and staring intently at the still trembling door.
Kreacher! He thought, after a moment of speculation. He hadn't seen the old house elf since he had arrived back at Grimmauld Place. A fiery hatred rose up in him as he thought of the way in which Kreacher had played a part in Sirius' death.
Harry rose from the bed and began to walk toward the closet door, ready to give the treacherous elf a piece of his mind. However, as he angrily swung the door open, he realized with a heart-stopping jolt that it wasn't Kreacher at all, and that nothing could have prepared him for what did emerge from the closet.
Sirius Black, covered in blood and looking every inch like the mass murderer the world had thought he was, stormed out of the closet and went straight for Harry. Harry took a giant leap backwards and then stood rooted to the spot, feeling like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water on him.
"Harry James Potter!" snapped Sirius. The bite in his voice was enough to cause Harry to recoil. "How dare you set foot in this house, you selfish fool! You just couldn't resist another chance to play the hero, could you? Hermione was right! You couldn't stop and think for five minutes about what you were doing, so instead you go charging off to the Ministry and LOOK WHERE IT'S GOT ME!" Harry could feel himself shaking with raw terror. "DEAD! Dead and gone, Harry Potter! And it's all your fault! How dare you even consider asking Remus' forgiveness! You don't deserve it! You got me killed, Harry Potter!"
Harry could feel a lump rising in his throat and his eyes began to burn. "S-Sirius, I-I-I'm so sorry," he stammered. "I didn't—mean—"
"Sorry is not going to cut it this time, Harry," replied Sirius, and now there was a look of pure disappointment on his face that broke Harry's heart ten times worse than the angry shouting had.
Three more figures now emerged from the closet to stand beside Sirius. Harry collapsed to the ground and felt tears begin to escape his eyes at the sight of the disappointed looks on their faces that matched Sirius'.
"M-M-Mum, D-Dad, Cedric…" Harry choked. "I—"
"Sirius is right, son." James said coldly. "Don't try and make excuses."
"We died for you so you could get more people killed? What a waste." Said Lily.
"You took my life away. I had my whole life in front of me, and now it's gone because of you." Snarled Cedric.
"No, p-p-please…I'm sorry!" Harry wailed.
"MURDERER! MURDERER!" They all shouted at him.
"NOOOOOO!" Harry sobbed.
"Harry!"
Harry looked up just as Remus flung his door open, wand raised and ready for battle. He took one look at Harry, crying on the floor, and the four figures standing over him, and he seemed to understand instantly. He came a bit further into the room, and suddenly the four figures vanished and became a large silver orb—the full moon.
"Ridikkulus." Said Remus calmly, and the moon vanished in a puff of white smoke.
Harry couldn't believe what had just happened. All he could do was burst into another round of hysterical tears, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in them. He couldn't face Remus. He couldn't even look at the spot where the four figures had stood only moments ago. He just cried harder than he had ever cried in his life. He wanted so, so badly for Remus to hold him and comfort him and tell him that it was okay, and that it wasn't his fault and he would never be alone again. But he knew better. Remus was surely going to leave him all alone to bawl his eyes out, and Harry felt that he deserved it.
That's why he was so surprised to feel someone kneel down next to him and put a warm hand on his shoulder. He summoned all his courage and looked up at Remus through streaming eyes. The look on Remus' face held no anger or accusation, but rather concern and sympathy and…love?
"Harry?" He asked, his voice impossibly soft and gentle. "Cub, are you okay?"
That did it. Harry dissolved in a fresh batch of uncontrollable sobs and threw his arms around Remus' neck. Remus, although taken by surprise, recovered quickly and wrapped his arms around Harry, placing one hand on the back of the boy's head and stroking his messy hair and using the other hand to rub his back.
"Oh, oh Harry, cub, shhh, it's okay," Remus cooed. "It was just a boggart, it wasn't real. I'm here now, I've got you." He held the sobbing boy close, taking a couple deep breaths to calm himself. He had heard Harry screaming, and had assumed the worst: a Death Eater attack, or even Voldemort himself, coming to finish Harry off.
"R-R-Remus, I'm s-s-sorry!" Harry wailed miserably. "P-p-p-please don't hate me, I'm so sorry, S-Sirius, all m-my fault!" He could feel his tears soaking through Remus' shirt.
Remus, surprised, drew back so he could see Harry's face. "Harry James!" he said, firmly but gently so as not to upset Harry further. "Don't you ever say that Sirius' death is your fault! Nothing could be further from the truth." At the mention of Sirius' name, Harry let out another sob and tried to bury his face back in Remus' shoulder. Remus gently held him back. "No, Harry, please look at me." Harry did so, though Remus was little more than a blur due to the tears still spilling from his eyes. "Harry, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. You've done nothing wrong. Bellatrix and Voldemort are at fault here, and nobody else. You tried to save Sirius because you were scared and you didn't want to let him get hurt. He would have done the same for you, and he couldn't have lived with himself if he hadn't gone to help that night. So please, Harry, don't be so hard on yourself. I can't stand seeing you so upset." His deep blue eyes were full of nothing but compassion and warmth.
"S-so you don't hate me?" Harry choked out.
Remus tenderly brushed a strand of tear-soaked hair out of Harry's eyes. "Oh, honey…never."
Harry, before he could stop himself, once again dissolved in hysterical sobs. Part of him hated that he was crying in front of Remus like a little kid, but another part of him recognized that this was the first time he had really cried for Sirius and it felt kind of good to just let go and let someone comfort him.
Remus placed an arm around Harry and helped him stand up and walk over to the bed, where they both sat down. He drew Harry into his lap and began to rock him back and forth, cradling him gently and whispering soothing words to him.
They sat there for a long time before Harry's sobs finally reduced to small whimpers and sniffles. Remus reached out and grabbed a tissue box from the bedside table and handed Harry a couple tissues. After the last of Harry's tears were dried, Remus summoned a glass of water from the bathroom, which Harry accepted gratefully.
"Do you feel better?" Remus asked kindly, brushing the damp hair away from Harry's face.
Harry nodded, a little embarrassed. "Sorry for crying all over you."
Remus shook his head. "Don't be sorry, I don't mind at all. It's good to let it all out. Bottling it up just makes it worse." He looked Harry in the eye and said, "There's no shame in crying, Harry. I'll never, ever tell you that it's not okay to cry."
Harry nodded, swallowing down the returning lump in his throat.
"And Harry, I also need you to understand that your parents and Sirius would never in a million years say the things to you that the boggart did. They all loved you more than anything in the world and would have done anything for you."
Harry felt his eyes start to sting again but held it back. Remus took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.
"Harry, I know I'm not your parents or Sirius and I would never dream of trying to replace them, but I want you to know that you can come to me if you ever need anything, whether it be just to talk or if you need a shoulder to cry on, I'll be there whenever you need me." He gave Harry a warm smile and another squeeze of his hand.
Harry felt his lower lip begin to tremble, and he said shakily, "Thank you so much, Remus. That really—means a lot."
Remus put an arm around him, and Harry placed his head on Remus' shoulder. Remus smiled and gave Harry a kiss on his head. "I love you, cub."
Harry smiled, even as a few tears strayed from his eyes. "I love you too, Remus."
Remus gave him one more squeeze, then pulled back and stood up, offering Harry his hand to help him up. "Come on, let's go downstairs and get started on dinner. I've got a photo album down there that you might like to see."
Harry smiled and took his hand. "Alright."